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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23056285">If You Play With Fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/borlaaq/pseuds/borlaaq'>borlaaq</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fallen London | Echo Bazaar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Come Eating, Dirty Talk, Hurt/Comfort, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mistaken Identity, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Praise Kink, Scent Kink, Sloppy Seconds, Spanking, Spoilers for Bag a Legend Conclusion Part One, Trans Male Character, musk, who put feelings into my pwp?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:47:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,322</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23056285</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/borlaaq/pseuds/borlaaq</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emil had not expected Mr Fires to be personally attending to the factory.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Implied Onesided Fires/Veils, Implied Veils/Candles, Mr Fires/Seeker of Mr Eatens Name, Seeker of Mr Eaten's Name/Mr Veils (Fallen London)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>If You Play With Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When the Gossipy Perfumer asks if Emil is sure that this is what Mr Veils smells like, Emil answers with a confident ‘yes’. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emil knows what he wants. He knows just how Veils smells and the Perfumer doesn’t want to know how. Although, he does swear that this isn’t how </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> remembers Veils smelling. His job is his nose after all. He would not be the best perfumer if his nose wasn’t skilled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>— And he makes perfume for the Masters himself. This is not the mixture Veils’ buys. (The Masters buy a lot of cologne and perfume. Wines especially. The Gossipy Perfumer isn’t paid to ask what they need to cover up.) Even when passing Veils on the street, he cannot recall it smelling like what Emil describes. It’s close, but there’s a few distinct differences Emil is </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> need to be there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Perfumer, however, doesn’t give any more resistance when Emil is blackmailing him into making the compound. He just wants the Monster Hunter out of his shop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If anyone knows Veils well enough to impersonate it, its Emil. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knows how the Master walks, how it talks, and how it dresses. Emil knows (perhaps too intimately) how to act. He had done his share of drinking Black Wings Absinthe and prowling at night to understand how Veils tends to think. (And more nights still on his hands and knees with claws digging into his hips—)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the perfume, his costume is complete. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes the greater part of a day to get into the layers of robes and douse himself down with the scent. Blood, musk, something woody, and something that reminded him of wings across the void between stars. (Just like it's all around him when his face is pressed into the furry neck, hands sweat-slick as each of Veils’ movements knock the wind from his lungs—) Really, getting the extra height had been the hardest part. Veils is drastically taller than Emil, but nothing some well made stilts couldn’t fix.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He does a final look into a mirror and for a brief moment he misses his own wings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The scent is stronger than he had anticipated. All around him and making it hard to focus. It reminds him too much of Veils and something in the back of his mind writhes and twitches. He hears a laugh, although he doesn’t know why. But he is used to allowing himself to be someone else. Today, he lets himself be Veils.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emil had not expected Mr Fires to be personally attending to the factory. What could it be doing that requires such personal investment? Emil steadies himself and walks towards the center of the room. The workers and Neddy Men see him and all work creases. Fires turns then, tilts its head a bit. It holds up a hand to signal to its men that it's alright and closes the gap between itself and Emil.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr Veils. We had an arrangement.” Its voice is different from the other Masters. Emil had only dealt with Fires on a few occasions when he had to go to Zee. He sees Fires’ nose twitch past its cowl. The glowing embers of its eyes widen and then narrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emil holds his breath, afraid he had been found out. Fires exhales. “Ah.” Its tone is more breathy now. “We should… discuss this. In private. I am sure you agree?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t know what that means but Fires is staring at him with a firm gaze that holds him in place. The smell of Veils is all around him. He gives a single, shallow nod, like Veils. Fires smirks, almost predatory. “I am glad to see you have come to me to deal with this. Always a moth drawn to a flame, aren’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, Veils would kill it for saying that, Emil is sure. He flexes his hands, letting out a small, practiced growl. Fires laughs, turning on its heels and walking to a side room. It shoots Emil a glance, a dare. Emil isn’t sure why he follows. He could throw in the Wrecker and be done with it. But Emil has always been dangerously curious. The room is a sparse office and Emil shuts the door behind him. He tries to look anywhere but at Fires because—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fires has taken off its hood and Emil is staring. It's different from Veils, different from the reflection of himself he sometimes catches in his dreams. Horns shaved down to nubs, fur rusty red. It's smirking, working off its gloves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take good care of you, Veils. Just let me fan the flames.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emil’s mind grinds to a halt. Restarts. Replays everything. And then it all catches up to him and nearly bowls him over. Fires puts a bare hand to the back of Emil’s head, claws digging in and thumb brushing the veil that hides his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Its voice is low, hotter than the factory. “How long have you been alone? Since the Third City? Let me help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The perfume. The godsdamned perfume. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veils had only fucked Emil because Veils had been in heat, because Emil reminded him of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Candles</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The specific scent Emil knows and demanded to be made is the smell of Veils </span>
  <em>
    <span>in heat</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And now here he is, in front of Fires, who thinks he’s Veils — Fires, who thinks Veils came to it because Veils needed help with its heat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fires,” he says quietly, and his voice still sounds like Veils’. It makes the Master purr, a gravely sound that causes Emil’s stomach twist. He swallows and before he can even comprehend anything else, Fires has dug its claws into his robes and ripped, ripped, ripped. Emil hisses in surprise, scraps of silk falling in tatters around his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emil had depended on the veil to hide his face. He had done nothing beneath the fabric to keep up the illusion. Why would he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fires is very, very quiet for a moment. “Seeker.” It says finally, voice unreadable. It still has Emil pinned to the wall, claws dangerously close. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Veils, uh, says hello?” Emil tries awkwardly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fires claws tap against the wall. It's still very close, eyes dilated. It inhales through its nose. “Veils… has been taking its heat out on the likes of </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Emil swears it almost sounds hurt. But before he can respond, Fires presses its body forward. It's hard, heat radiating from its cock as it shoves itself against Emil. “You’ll have to do then. You are obviously… equipped with knowing how.” Fires practically snarls and it makes heat shoot directly to Emil’s dick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t even remember why he is here in the first place, not with Veils’ musk and this new smoky scent of Fires. It peels the rest of the clothes from him, with more care than Veils ever would, snapping the stilts in half as it removed them. The Factory is hot, Fires’ touch is hotter. It makes a hum, seemingly satisfied when Emil is in a state of undress. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A good London boy,” Fires murmurs, claws tracing Emil’s muscles. “Shame you waste this strength chasing a Name.” It grabs his ass, spinning him around and bending him down over the desk. Supplies scatter but Emil just presses his face to the wood. All he can smell now is Fires and it's too much. He can’t concentrate. Claws find their way between his legs, spreading him. “Like a damned bitch in heat,” it hisses, pleased by how wet Emil is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Vulgar, aren’t you?” Emil pants, grinding himself against Fires’ fingers. Fires chuckles, deep and rumbling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the slut here, not me. You had to have known what that smell you have is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, actually Emil is just dumb, but he doesn’t say that. He’ll let Fires thinks he had been trying to seduce it if it means getting out of this alive. Fires won’t talk about his failed task if doing so has to have it admit that it fucked Emil. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, he can’t even think that much about anything besides Fires claws working him open, slow and steady. Its movements are firm, thumb pressed against his cock without moving. Emil tries to roll his hips, tries to angle himself better but Fires holds him still. It’s methodical, focused. It's to stretch and prepare him, but he whines and pants, desperate for anything more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t get close enough but soon he’s dripping down his own thighs, cunt feeling much too empty. Fires slips its fingers out with a wet sound, wiping them off on Emil’s thigh. The sound of fabric rustling is almost deafening in Emil’s state and he rocks his hips back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fires’ cock is abnormally hot, rubbing between the cheeks of his ass, slick and throbbing. It's not as long as Veils’, but thick, so very thick. The bumps are bulbous and large, not like Veils and its barbs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emil reaches back to try and grab it, to guide it in, but Fires is quick to twist his arm behind his back and hold it there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be good.” It whispers huskily into Emil’s ear. Its cock continues to slip against his ass, down between his thighs, against his own cock, and then back up. Emil shakes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve been good this whole time,” he snaps. He’s impatient, which is usually why he gets along with Veils during these kinds of encounters. He’s not used to not being given what he wants. He’s not used to being </span>
  <em>
    <span>teased</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly there’s a sharp slap to his ass, hard enough to move the desk he’s pressed to as his hips jerk forward. He yelps, a surpised sound like something between ‘what the fuck’?! and ‘hey!’. Fires, apparently, did not like Emil’s sass. It digs its claws into the red skin of his rear slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never been put in your place before?” Fires challenges. It's true but Emil won’t admit to that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you going to fuck me or not?” Another slap, harder, to the other side of his ass. He hisses now, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. Fluid rolls down his leg and onto the floor. Fires uses its foot to spread his legs more, watching his wetness streak down. It pulls apart his cheeks, holding him open so that he drips to the floor instead. Emil feels his face burn in embarrassment. It clicks its tongue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No wonder Veils like you. Gonna cum from just this?”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck off,” he whines, breathless. This, of course, earns him yet another spank and then Fires squeezes the red and sore flesh. Emil grits his teeth. It slowly drags its slick cock over his ass, the heat of it burning enough to hurt against his already inflamed skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only when Emil finally shuts his mouth for a decent amount of time does Fires sink its cock into him. He presses his head to the table, moaning. It's thicker than what he’s taken before and that’s saying something. He isn’t sure if the burn is from the heat or the stretch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fires is slow at first, its thrusts deep and timed to keep Emil’s orgasm just out of reach. “Bloody Hell, lad. You’re tight.” Its voice is ragged, using all its concentration to tease Emil. It obviously has more self control than Veils. But that isn’t saying much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emil is weak for praise and his cunt tightens as he rocks his hips back. It takes Fires off guard and it growls, presses its muzzle to the back of Emil’s neck. It inhales, tongue lolling out as its movements start to become sloppy. The reaction makes him smirk, purposely clenching his cunt. Fires curses in the Correspondence, pressing its chest firmly against Emil’s back. The Master seems to break then, gripping his hips and lifting his feet off the ground to fuck him roughly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He moans, muffling the sounds into his arm. He tries to meet each movement, but without any leverage, he’s at Fires’ mercy. It’s a good fuck, Emil thinks, but Fires isn’t giving him any attention where he needs it. He’s not going to cum. He can’t manage to get his own hand between his legs with its weight on him and he doubts the Master cares about his pleasure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(—maybe he took that for granted with Veils. Despite the violent and almost cruel way the two of them fucked, Veils always made sure he finished.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emil gets close, dripping wet and legs trembling. Fires is grunting and growling, sounding the most beast he’s ever heard from the Master who tries too hard to be human. That alone is exciting for Emil, but perhaps only because its claws draw blood and the smell makes his head spin and he thinks of Veils. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Fires is cumming. Its cum is too hot and it makes Emil hiss in shock. It burns and burns and Fires just holds him still as it fills him. It doesn't knot him, but he can feel it rubbing the outside of his cunt raw. Fires is growling out praise. “Good boy. Such a good cumslut. Take it all. Just like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If it didn’t feel so uncomfortable, Emil is sure he would cum to the words alone. But Fires’ seed is unnatural and too much. The smell makes him too dizzy. It's too strong and smoky, filling his lungs and leaving him gasping. His whole body is hot, strung tight, and he just. Can’t. Cum. And it's not Veils, it's not Veils and Emil doesn’t know why that matters so much. Why does this feel so wrong. Why does this—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>( “Curators don’t mate for life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He isn’t sure why that hurts so much. )</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emil wakes up in the Forgotten Quarter. He doesn’t remember passing out. He’s wrapped in the shreds of what was once his Veils’ disguise. He can barely remember much, but as he stands up, he feels cum drip down his thighs. It's still hot enough to burn and his cunt aches. It’s not the good ache either that he usually has after fucking Veils. He curses, trying to wipe it off his skin as fast as possible but he can still feel most of it clinging to his insides. He feels dirty. He wants to take a bath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He finally lets himself try and figure out where exactly he is. He’s weak, but his body takes him to the only place he knows so that he can center himself. The Forgotten Quarter is a maze but he can always find the Well. From there he can find his way out. He presses his palms to the stone and the coolness of it makes him let out a shaky sigh. His body is still so hot he’s afraid he has a fever. He reminds himself to ask what its cum is like before he fucks another Master since they all seem to be different. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He closes his eyes and focuses on steadying himself. Parts of his memory are still blurry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He jumps when he hears a familiar voice behind him. “You stink.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fires wants to fuck you.” He doesn’t even glance back. Veils usually won’t come near the Well. He doesn't expect it to get any closer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What.” Deadpans Veils. It's right behind Emil now, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around. A look of disgust passes over its face, finally close enough to recognize the smell. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shame washes over Emil when he sees the expression and he tries to shove Veils away. Veils digs its claws in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fires mated with you.” It's not a question and Emil looks away. He tries again to push away and this time Veils lets him go. He presses himself closer to the Well, as if it would protect him. He’s not scared, but embarrassed. Ashamed. “Emil.” Veils says firmly and that finally makes him look up. “Did it finish inside you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nods stiffly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you… want it?” There’s something possessive in its tone. Veils would kill Fires if it did anything to Emil against his will. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit, Veils. Yes. You don’t need to interrogate me. It's not like we’re a thing.” He huffs. It's not a lie, Emil had wanted it, had even enjoyed it for the most part. But that doesn’t stop the regret. He hates it because he doesn't understand it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A thing.” Veils repeats.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emil waves his hands vaguely. “Together. Dating. Mated. Whatever.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. But you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The fierceness of its words take Emil off guard. It’s spoken in the Correspondence, shimmering in the air. “And I promised no one would ever hurt you again. Except me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veils kneels before Emil can respond and it grabs his leg, hooking it over its shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emil tries to pull away, off balance and nearly falling. “What are you—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It hurts, right? Most Curator seed isn’t meant for humans.” It pulls away the remnants of fabric and presses its tongue against Emil’s cunt. He shudders, but its tongue is cool in comparison. Emil guesses it depends on what they hoard, since their hoards can change their biology and— and— his thoughts die when he feels Veils’ tongue press inside of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s gentle, nose rubbing against his cock as its tongue explores every inch of his cunt. It twists and squirms making him gasp and moan. He grabs onto Veils’ horns for balance, hunching over it. Veils knows just where to touch him, what parts hurt the most and need the soothing cooling of its tongue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Veils,” he whispers breathlessly. It responds with a hum that vibrates through him. Its saliva is a salve to the burning and it makes the sensations twice as powerful. Veils’ drags its nose against his cock as it keeps its tongue working with cleaning him out. He can’t help but rock his hips slightly and Veils doesn’t stop him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t even realize he’s begging to cum until Veils pulls away. “Shh, relax. I’m not going anywhere. How do you want me?” Veils of all people knows how Emil tends to get. Desperate and needy and he’ll blame the injections Apples gives him for his hormones. Veils doesn’t seem to mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emil thinks he may cry if he can’t cum soon. “Just— keep doing this. Please. I’ll—I’ll get you off after, I just need—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Runt.” Veils glances up at him, a small smirk as the word makes Emil shudder. “Shut up.” It puts its tongue to work on his cock instead, sucking and dragging its teeth gently over it. His thighs shake and Veils’ holds him up. After no attention to his cock from Fires, the feeling is overwhelming. Veils’ curls its tongue around the length, dipping the tip under his hood and stroking it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emil sees stars. He cries out, hips jerking forward. He cums hard and Veils is quick to swallow down his rush of fluid. It pulls away carefully, not wanting to overstimulate him. It holds him up, claws petting his thighs with a gentleness Veils doesn’t usually have. When his shaking finally eases, Veils stands up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emil still can’t remember how to speak but Veils shrugs off its outermost cloak and drapes it over him. “You may want to go check on your allies.” It says. “I’ll close my eyes and pretend I don’t know where you’re hiding.” The hunt, after all, is half the fun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He draws the fabric around him tightly, rubbing his face into the soft fabric. It's cold too, feels nice against his body. “This is dumb. I’m supposed to be trying to kill you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veils just hums, turning away. “Eaten probably won’t give you a choice when the matter comes up. Don’t get soft.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seems it's too late for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I killed Candles. I can kill you too.” A pause. “Go check on your nun.” It's a threat. Emil bares his teeth, shoving past Veils. He tries not to notice how the streets all look wrong as he hurries back.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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